Lies always taste sweeter
by Anil Gawyn
Summary: Or when Salai finally decides to face the truth instead of his made-up reality.


The silence. _Dio_. The _silence_.

It was infuriating him, infuriating Salai like nothing ever had before. He desperately kept an ear out for the scratch of charcoal on parchment, the soft noise of paint smeared and brushed onto a blank canvas; any of the sound that usually filled the workshop, but none of them were to be heard today.

"Maestro?" he called softly, the sound of his own voice resounding through the silence unnerving him even more.

He roamed helplessly through every room, his moves nervous en unnatural, comparable to those of what we would now call a robot. He went to the kitchen, picked an apple from the fruit basket, put it down, picked it up again, hesitated for a moment before taking a bite. It tasted bitter.

"Maestro? Stop ignoring me! Why do you do this?"

He went through the rooms again, several times, through each and every one of them, searching for Da Vinci and waiting for an answer of him. He hurried himself to the staircase, still munching on his apple as juice dribbled down his chin. The stairs creaked and echoed through the inexistence of noise.

"Maestro? If you do not answer me, I will take it you accept I… 'borrow' some florins to repay my gambling debts!"

Oh, he knew how much Leonardo hated this. For sure this time he would get a reaction from the painter, or at least a protestation… Or so he thought. But the silence remained unchanged.

_Why do you keep fooling yourself, Salai?_

Letting the half eaten apple drop carelessly to the carpeted floor, the little devil walked to his room with the same unnatural, nervous, mechanical steps. He began rambling around, making his bed, unmaking it, making it again, picking various objects and observing them without even seeing them, still calling for Leonardo. Again. And again.

Maestro? Maestro? Maestro? _Maestro?!_

_Stop fooling yourself, Gian._

Salai smashed down the vase he was holding and ran to his maestro's room.

_Lies might taste sweeter…_

He flung the door open, tears welling in his eyes.

_But you should know better than anyone…_

The bedroom was clean and tidy. Way to tidy, emptied of any sketch, parchment, canvas or half-finished painting that used to fill it.

_The sweeter the lie while it lasts, the bitterer the truth when it comes._

Salai fell to his knees, covering his face disfigured by cruel tears and a frown with his hands. Or rather, Gian fell to his knees. He was Gian Giacomo Caprotti. Not Salai the little devil.

_You have been lying to yourself all this time Gian, hiding behind a made-up reality of yours._

He remembered going out gambling more often, with his own florins and not those he had stolen from Leonardo. He remembered drinking wine; good, expensive, tasty and fruity wine. Lots of wine. Too much maybe. But he couldn't recall anyone calling him Salai for… Quite a long time now.

_Foolish Gian… You went out gambling, you drank, you drew and painted, all this to try and forget, yet everything is catching up to you. Now… Cast those lies aside and let truth enlighten you._

Gian got up slowly, his frame wobbling a little as he made his way to the bed of his maestro. He lay down, drowsy from all the crying, and let himself roll to the side. He was not Salai, for no one even called him like this anymore. Ezio was gone far away, in Roma probably, doing what assassins of his rank do best.

As for the maestro…

The maestro…

Leonardo…

_You are not the young apprentice of Leonardo Da Vinci anymore. You are a grown man; one who needs to admit the truth. To admit all of it._

Gian closed his eyes tiredly and let out a soft whimper.

_Say it, Gian. Let it come out of your own mouth. Let yourself admit it. Admit that two years ago, here in Venice, in this very workshop, in this very room, on this very bed, two years ago, the genius inventor and painter Leonardo Da Vinci…_

Another tired whimper. Then Gian let out a final murmur, before falling into a dreamless sleep:

"…Passed away from old age and went to a better place…"

And that… was it. The end of the lie.


End file.
